0809

August 9, 2022

Up late last night watching news coverage of the FBI execution of a search warrant on Donald Trump's Mar-a-Lago home and office.  Drank too much wine and woke up this morning feeling off, not exactly a hangover, no headache or nausea, but not well either.  All day the news reporters, anchors, and pundits have been prattling on about what the searchers were looking for and why.  Trump has a copy of the search warrant and supporting affidavit and could release it to the press if he chose to but of course he has not done so since the contents of the affidavit will reveal probably cause to believe the fruits or instrumentalities or whatever of a crime are reasonably believed to be in his premises at Mar-a-Lago.  

    Meanwhile, Republican supporters of Trump are spitting out venom about Merrick Garland, Christopher Wray (Trump appointee), the DOJ, and the FBI.  The deeper our political polarities become, the more I've come to think of H. L. Mencken as the most reliable philosopher of what back at Marquette used to be billed as "The Philosophy of Man."  As fed to me, it was all Scholastic philosophy, Thomas Aquinas and Aristotle, but essentially a theology course.  We were force-fed Thomistic philosophy, i.e., official Catholic doctrine in those days.  I wonder what the required theology and philosophy curricula look like now.  Maybe I can find it online.

    Today is partisan primary election day here with one big contest, the Republican gubernatorial race between Tim Michels, who gives every indication of being a dyed-in-the-wool fascist, and Rebecca Kleefisch, who is doing her best to match him.  For the first time in years, maybe ever, I have deliberately chosen not to vote.  The Democratic senatorial primary is effectively over with all the potentially competitive candidates dropping out and leaving the game to Mandela Barnes.  If I were to vote, it would be to crossover to the Republican race to pick the Republican who might give Gov. Evers a chance to win in the general election in November.  The only trouble is I don't have a clue whether Kleefisch or Michels would be the weaker candidate, so I'm sitting this one out.

    A stainless steel piece fell off our grill a few days ago and neither Geri nor I can figure out where or how it was attached to the grill.  She is cleaning the grill tonight and watching her drives home to me that she makes it possible for me to live in this house.  I can't get down on the ground or floor and get back up.  I can't reliably climb a ladder without getting dizzy and risking a bad fall.  But for Geri, I would be living in an apartment or condo or some kind of congregate living facility.  I'm doing some perseverating on what that means, i.e. that to the extent that I can't take care of this or any house, I am to that extent unable to care for myself as a homeowner.  I turn 81 on the 24th.  Thinking daunting thoughts.

    Stocked up on wine at Total Wine this afternoon.  After my foggy, fuzzy day, I suspect I will be laying off the vino for a while.